The Way Back Home
by Sixty Five Roses
Summary: A tragic event from Sharon's past resurfaces when she and Rusty are cleaning her parents' attic. Together, they have to deal with the people in their lives who abandoned them. Please read the trigger warning.


**Trigger Warning: **Aside from this being a generally angsty fic, it also contains mentions of suicide and drug use. If you are sensitive about these subjects, please refrain from reading this story. Also, please note that this story is a bit more melodramatic than my usual stories. I know some may not like it, but that's the way it is.

* * *

><p>The dusty smell of the attic made Rusty sneeze twice. Why were there no windows in this place, he wondered. Sharon, on the other hand, seemed unaffected by the smell or by the dim light. She uttered a soft 'bless you' as she grabbed a Stanley knife and cut the duct tape that sealed the box in front of her. Rusty grabbed a crow bar and used it to remove the lid off a crate that she handed him a moment earlier.<p>

It's been their seventh day in Salt Lake City and all the people who frequented the house during the first week after her mother's death have already gone. Emily was unable to attend the funeral, being away on tour and Ricky stayed the first three days and had to return to Palo Alto in order to pack for his upcoming vacation in Europe. Rusty and Sharon were left there on their own and he was surprised how well Sharon dealt with her grief. He had feared for her at first; it was only six months earlier that her father had a heart attack and passed away and now her mother suffered a stroke and died too. Sharon, however, seemed stoic and practical about it. If Rusty had to guess, he'd say that she still didn't fully grasp the fact that both her parents were gone. Or maybe she only let herself fall apart when he wasn't around. He wasn't sure which was true. Either way, they needed to go over the boxes in the attic and sort through what was in them. Sharon planned to transfer them to a storage facility and Rusty had the feeling that she wanted to sell the house. Currently, they were trying to see if there were stuff in the boxes that they could throw away.

Rusty looked into the crate he just opened and made sure there were no cockroaches or spiders inside before he felt brave enough to put his hand in it and pull out a photo album. It looked old and the heavy leather cover creaked a little when he opened it. He flipped through the first pages without really looking at any of the photos, until one of them caught his eye. It was a faded color photo of a girl in her teens. She had big green eyes and her sandy blond hair was braided; her smile was slightly crooked and the expression on her face was amused and menacing at the same time. Even though she looked like her, Rusty wasn't completely sure that this was Sharon.

"Sharon?" he asked. She hummed in reply and looked at him. "Is that you in this picture?" Sharon's eyes widened and she huffed inaudibly.

"No. That's my sister, Sheridan," she said, her expression blank.

"You have a sister? Was she at the funeral?" Rusty's wondered. "And your parents named you Sharon and Sheridan? Really? Are you twins or something?" Sharon smiled at his litany of questions. Rusty's enthusiasm to learn more about her whenever he could was heartening.

"She's two years older than me, and she didn't attend the funeral. And as for the names, I agree, it's a little odd to have two girls with similar names in the same household; especially if they aren't twins," she replied.

"So where is she? Why did she not come to the funeral?" Rusty wondered.

"She disappeared 40 years ago," Sharon replied simply.

"What do you mean disappeared?" Rusty arched his eyebrows.

"I was at a sleepover and when I came home the next day, she wasn't here. My parents told me she left. None of us ever heard from her again," Sharon sighed and pulled a strange looking doll out of the box in front of her.

"But why?"

"I don't know. We used to be close; I used to tell her all my secrets and dreams and she was a great listener. And shortly after Jack and his family moved to the house next door, she and I started drifting apart."

"Jack? You've known him since you were in high school?" Rusty questioned.

"Yes. He was in Sheridan's class," Sharon smiled bitterly.

"So wait, if Jack wasn't even in your class, how did the two of you even get together?" the way Rusty's face flushed as the question left his lips did not escape Sharon.

"Sheridan and I used to walk home together from school, and sometimes he walked with us. A few days before Sheridan left, she was sick and decided to stay home and while Jack and I were walking home that day, he said that he liked me and asked me out," Rusty watched the nostalgic expression that spread across Sharon's face as she spoke.

"So maybe she was jealous of you," he suggested.

"Sheridan? No way." Sharon grinned. "She wasn't into Jack at all. She always said that she was too smart for boys."

"So what happened? Why did she leave?"

"I'm not exactly sure. She was going through a tough time. She stayed indoors a lot, she stopped spending time with me; she became sarcastic, combative, hurtful. The day before she disappeared, we had a big fight; the last thing I remember of her was her shoving me out of the bathroom and slamming the door in my face."

"That sounds horrible," Rusty made a face. "What was that fight about?"

"Our parents went away for the weekend, and the day they were supposed to come back, I woke up and walked to the bathroom to wash my face. She was sitting in front of the toilet bowl, throwing up. I went over to her and tried to help, but she pushed me away. I stood there, unsure what to do and it made her angry. She started yelling at me to leave her alone, but I thought that she was sick and refused to leave the room." Sharon paused and looked at Sheridan's photo again. "I offered to ask Jack's father to take us to the hospital and she just snapped at me. She got off the floor, dragged me outside the bathroom by my ear and slammed the door in my face." Sharon sighed. "And the next day she was gone. I wanted to go to the police, but my parents said that she was almost 18 and that she knew the way home if she wanted to come back."

"Did you ever try to find her?" Rusty asked.

"Not at first, but after two days I started asking her friends if they knew where she was. They all told me that they haven't seen her in a while. She dropped out of school several months before and I didn't even know about it. They said she had a boyfriend and that rumor said that they got hitched several months earlier, but that couldn't have been true. I mean, I just saw her three days earlier, so she couldn't have been married for months. Then I started thinking that maybe my parents put her in a convent, but when I spoke to my priest, he said that people didn't do that anymore. But after I begged and cried, he agreed to give me a list of convents in our area; I went to each and every one of them, looking for her. She wasn't in any of them." Sharon paused again and took a deep breath. "When my parents found out I was actively looking for her, they sent me to spend time at my uncle's house for a few days and when I came back home, all of Sheridan's things were gone."

"Do you think they knew where she was?" Rusty wondered, intrigued by the mystery of Sheridan's disappearance. The unfortunate story reminded him the box of lost girls no one was looking for that he sorted at the murder room a few months earlier. It reminded him Sharon's promise that she would look for him and she would find him if he disappeared.

"I don't know. I think that she ran away and didn't find her way back home," Sharon replied.

"But she knew where you live," Rusty said.

"What I mean is that whatever made her run away may have been so horrible to her that she thought she'd never be forgiven and that she couldn't come back home. And maybe she lost hope that we'd be able to understand her," Sharon explained.

"But you would have understood her, right? I mean, you're kind of understanding and all." Rusty said. Sharon smiled and nodded. "Maybe we can find her, Sharon. I mean, you work at the LAPD, so you have connections, right?"

"I can't use the LAPD resources to look for my long lost sister, Rusty. And anyway, I wouldn't even know where to start. It's been 40 years since she left, my parents are both gone and I have lost touch with anyone who used to know her. It's practically a cold case by now," Sharon explained. "Plus, she didn't even disappear in California, so using LAPD resources will not be very helpful in looking for her."

"What about Facebook? I mean, what if we post her photo and ask if anyone saw her or remembers her. We could make a Youtube video with her story and maybe if people share it over social media, we'll find where she is. Maybe she'll see it and realize that she can still find her way home."

"Rusty, that's very thoughtful of you, but I don't think it's a good idea. I don't want this kind of exposure, and I just hope that she's managed to create a good life for herself and that she's happy wherever she is." Sharon replied.

"What if she's out there looking for you?" Rusty insisted.

"Rusty, honey. If she was looking for me, she could have easily found me a long time ago."

"But…" Rusty started, but Sharon cut him mid-sentence.

"We have a lot of boxes to go through and I don't want to spend my entire bereavement leave in this attic. So let's just forget about Sheridan until we finish here, okay?" Sharon said and threw a crooked glance at the doll she was holding. "I can't believe my mother kept this," she mumbled.

"I can't believe you played with this. It must be the creepiest doll I've ever seen," Rusty chuckled. Sharon stifled a giggle. They both returned to sorting the contents of the boxes. Rusty's box was full of documents, all of which seemed to be connected to Sheridan in a way: photos, certificates, report cards, albums and a series of diaries. He piled the items on the floor and looked into the crate again, pulling the last item out of it: a thick brown envelope. Opening the envelope, he pulled out a bunch of documents and started going through them. Among them, he noticed a smaller envelope, titled 'To Sharon'. He inspected the envelope. It was still sealed. He placed it in his lap as he noticed the title on the next certificate. His eyes widened and he felt his heartbeat becoming stronger. This was not okay, definitely not okay. He looked at Sharon and then at the letter in his laps, then at Sharon again. He had to make a decision and he had to make it fast. But in order to make a decision, he needed to be informed. Taking a deep, yet inaudible breath, he quickly opened the envelope. His hands trembled as he pulled out a neatly folded paper. He read it quickly, feeling the blood draining from his face as his brain grasped the meaning of the words. "Sharon," his voice shook.

"Yeah?" she asked absentmindedly as she placed a bunch of cross eyed dolls back in the carton box in front of her.

"If you had information about where your sister can be found, what would you do?" he asked.

"If I knew anything about her whereabouts I'd try to find her." Sharon inspected him, noticing how pale he looked. "Why?"

"I think… I think your parents knew where she is."

"Oh," Sharon looked surprised and a little unsure. "Probably." Rusty could tell that she was about to drop the subject again.

"She left a letter for you," he decided to relay the news to her.

"What?" Hope sparked in Sharon's eyes. Rusty handed her the paper, his hands shaking. He watched her as her eyes scanned the page, noticing the way she nervously bit her bottom lip.

_"Sharon,_

_Do you ever feel like your heart is not beating, as if someone ripped it out of your chest and all that's left is emptiness? I feel it all the time and it grows stronger every day. _

_Right now, I am sitting at my window and looking outside. It is a sunny day, and you're lying on the grass in the back yard, wearing a purple bathing suit that shows more than it covers. Your skin is sweaty and flush. With a skin like yours, it's better that you stay out of the sun. It will only burn you. _

_The boy from next door is right there with you. He leans in to kiss you and I can see you shudder under his touch. Is it your first kiss? Is this what you always wished for?_

_I wish I could feel happy for you, but all I feel is emptiness. I should feel angry, at you; at him. I should want to run over there and tell him that he should leave, and make you cover yourself up. You're too young for him to see you so exposed. You're not even a woman yet, even if you think you are; even if your body is changing. Two years ago, you were still a child and now… Now you are kissing the man of my dreams, the father of my child; the child that grows inside me. Did you even notice the signs? Oh, no. Of course you didn't. You're a child, still. Do you know that you can get pregnant on the first time? I didn't._

_Maybe this boy would be your first too; judging by the way you're devouring his lips, the day isn't far before you let him rob you of your innocence. It didn't take me a long time to give in to his charm either._

_Now his lips are kissing your bare stomach and as you throw your head back and moan, I place my palm on my growing belly; my child is moving inside me; I think its upset by the thought of its father kissing a girl who isn't me. I don't even feel the need to save you from him._

_Tomorrow, I will be gone forever. Goodbye, my traitorous little sister." _

"Oh, my God!" She called out eventually. "Did you read this, Rusty?" Her face was flush.

"Uh, yeah. I'm sorry…" he said. Sharon got up and started pacing around the room. "I probably shouldn't have." Sharon sat down again.

"What's done is done." She shrugged, her expression suddenly impassive. Rusty knew that expression too well; she did it every time she was shocked or surprised. It was a façade that was meant to cover up what she was feeling. He wondered if he should show her the other thing he found.

"Are you angry at her?" he asked, trying to figure out what she was thinking about.

"I'm not sure. This – it all happened such a long time ago. If I would have read it back then, I'd probably be furious, but now…" she paused and looked at the paper in her hands.

"Now…?" Rusty prodded her.

"I'm just wondering where she is," Sharon shrugged.

"So if you knew where she is, now that you know what happened, what would you do?" Rusty asked.

"I'd just hug her," By her modulated tone, Rusty could tell that Sharon was trying to keep her composure. "And tell her that I never meant to hurt her."

"And if… if – what if you couldn't tell her that? I mean, what if she's very far away and you can't get to where she is?"

"Rusty," she glared at him. "Was there something else in that box that you're not showing me?" She was using her 'mom tone', the one that told him that she knew he was hiding something. He hated it when she used it.

"I… umm, yes, but… Okay, Sharon, I have something here about her, but… I don't really want to show it to you," he admitted.

"Why is that?" Her gaze became curious.

"It says here where she is, but I don't think you're going to like it." Sharon's eyes inspected him for a moment and then she nodded. Rusty wasn't sure what it meant.

"I can see that you're worried about me," she said softly. "And I appreciate it, Rusty, I do. And I realize that you don't want to show me whatever you found there, so I guess it's not a good thing, right?" Rusty nodded slowly. Sharon looked at the letter in her hand again and read it, slowly internalizing the meaning of the words. "She didn't really leave, did she?" Rusty shook his head and noticed the sorrowful expression that spread across Sharon's face. "Is there a death certificate in there, Rusty?" Tears started filling her eyes. He swallowed hard and nodded. "Does it say the cause of death?" Rusty looked at the certificate he found among the items in the crate.

"Poisoning, I think it means she…"

"Overdosed on sleeping pills. She had a prescription." Sharon buried her face in her palms. Rusty walked over to her. He wished that he had never found the album or the letter, or the death certificate. He took a seat next to her, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders and she leaned into him.

"I don't really know how you feel right now and Provenza isn't here to tell me what to do or what to say. And it really sucks that your parents died and that they lied to you about your sister. And… I kinda wish Dr. Joe was here, so I could talk to him and tell him how I feel about all of this, because it's not fair." Sharon raised her head and looked at him. "And, what I'm really trying to say is that I don't know what to do."

"Honey," she caressed his cheek with the back of her hand. "You don't have to do anything."

"But you're crying."

"Rusty, watching my beautiful and smart sister withering in front of me without being able to help her and without understanding why it was happening was a nightmare. And after she disappeared, I wondered if where she was and if I'll ever see her again. So finding out that she was dead all this years – Rusty, it's sad. I'm very sad that she lost her way and couldn't find the way back home. I'm very sad that she didn't trust me to be there for her. I'm very sad that my parents chose to keep all of this from me, because at this point, I have no doubt that they knew about Jack and the baby." Sharon wiped a tear away and sighed. "And what I'm feeling right now is completely natural, so you don't really need to do anything. I'll be sad for a while and eventually, I'll learn to live with all of this and I will be okay."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, honey. I am sure. And if you need to talk to Dr. Joe or to Lieutenant Provenza, you should call them," Sharon gave him a meaningful look.

"I'll do that." Rusty said.

"Good." Sharon nodded. "I think that maybe we should leave the attic for today and get some fresh air. What do you say about going out for pizza?"

* * *

><p>The air outside was cold and Rusty tightened his scarf around his neck as he walked uphill, his snickers squeaking as the sole rubbed against the wet grass. It was quiet and peaceful and very green. He's only been to a cemetery twice before and without the weeping crowd, it didn't seem eerie as it did the first times. In fact, it was very serene. Sharon looked at the note in her hand as she surveyed the graveyard in front of them.<p>

It was three days after she found out about her sister's untimely death and about the nature of Sheridan's relationship with Jack. The day after Rusty found the letter and death certificate, they went back into the attic and sorted through the documents in Sheridan's crate. Among the documents, they managed to find Sheridan's burial certificate and now here they were, trying to find the exact location of the grave.

"I think it's by the tree over there," Sharon said, her voice soft. Rusty took her hand and they walked together towards where she thought the grave was. Once they stood under the weeping willow, Rusty looked at the tombstones around them until he spotted the one that belonged to Sheridan, three rows down from where they were standing. They walked there together, and Rusty tensed a little as he watched Sharon leaning down and placing the flowers that they brought with them on Sheridan's grave. Her fingers touched the headstone as she read the inscription. "Here lie Sheridan Ava O'Reilly, Daughter and Sister and Mother." She smiled bitterly at the last word. Her parents would have supported Sheridan and the baby, had she chose life.

"I know you never really got to have a funeral for her, so I wrote a eulogy for your sister," Rusty said when Sharon stood back up. She looked at him with surprise and warmth and then nodded her head. Rusty pulled a folded paper out of his jacket pocket and looked at Sharon and then at Sheridan's gravestone. He unfolded the paper and took a deep breath. "I apologize in advance about this not being a traditional eulogy, alright?" he looked at Sharon and she nodded slowly. "Dear Sheridan, we never met each other so let me introduce myself. My name is Rusty Beck and I am your nephew. I chose to speak today in front of your grave because I read the letter that you left for Sharon. While reading your letter, I thought it was very poetic; your choice of words, and the way they convey your emotions show your talent and I am sure that if you lived, you could have used that talent to become a writer. The words you chose in your letter were also used as daggers – meant to stab the heart of the sister that I am convinced you loved dearly.

Three years ago, I lost my mother, my home and everything I had. I became an orphan and a stray that no one wanted. Just like your unborn child, I was unwanted by both of my parents. My entire life, I have endured the weight of being born into a world where I was a burden for my mother to carry. And eventually, she gave up on me for something she wanted more, much in the same way you gave up on your child and on your family in favor of death. But whereas your story tragically ends, mine begins. Your sister, whom you despised in your letter has saved my life; she has given me a home and a family; she became a mother and a mentor to me. She fought for me with everything she had and protected me from horrible people. The sister you couldn't be happy for is the bravest and most loving person I have ever met and she has a heart as big as the universe.

Sheridan, I wish you would have made a different choice. I wish that you could have seen your sister the way I see her. I wish you would have given life another chance. If you did, I am sure you could be a really good mother and a terrific aunt and the world would have enjoyed your incredible talents. Even though I didn't know you, I am standing here with Sharon and we both mourn for what could have been and for the choices that you made. May you rest in peace." When he looked up from his paper, he could see the tears that streamed down Sharon's face.

"That was beautiful, Rusty. You're very talented yourself," she said and wrapped one arm around his shoulders. "And I'm very proud that you let me be your mother." She smiled at him through her tears and he pulled packaged Kleenex and handed them to her. She thanked him as she carefully opened the package and pulled one tissue paper out, gently patting it on her cheeks and drying her tears.

"Sharon, maybe it's not the right time, but over the last couple of days, I thought about some of the things you said to me in the attic," Rusty said.

"What about?"

"You spoke about how some people lose their way home and it made me think of my mother. She always told me how her parents kicked her out when she got pregnant with me and I can't help thinking, maybe she lied about that the same way she lied about my father and about rehab," he paused for a moment. "I think that she may have left on her own and didn't know how to return. And maybe her parents don't even know about me; maybe they think she's missing and they're looking for her. You know?"

"Given your mother's record with lies, it's a possibility," Sharon agreed.

"And after you told me about your sister and how you didn't know where she was all these years, I started thinking that maybe someone should let my biological grandparents know where my mother is, just in case that they don't know."

"So what you're saying is that you want to find your biological family?" Sharon asked.

"Don't get me wrong, I love you and I feel very lucky to be part of your family, but I have more family out there and maybe if I find them, they'll want to take care of my mother, the same way you took care of me." He looked at Sharon expectantly.

"Rusty, I think it's very thoughtful of you to want them to take care of your mother, once she gets out of prison. But I want you to know that if we manage to find the rest of your biological family and you want to keep in touch with them, it's okay. It's perfectly alright to want that for yourself and not only for your mother." Sharon spoke in the usual soft tone she used whenever they talked about his mother. "And if you have the chance to have an even bigger family than you already have, then I want that for you too and I will do everything I can to help you find them and get in touch with them."

"Thank you, Sharon," Rusty said and when she wrapped her arms around him, he rested his head on her shoulder and closed his eyes, knowing that in Sharon's arms, he has found his way home.

THE END

* * *

><p><strong><em>As always, I'd love to know what you think about this story and will greatly appreciate your messages and reviews. <em>**


End file.
